Close Quarters
by showmaster64x
Summary: Zuko has secrets to keep. Jet has a mission to expose them. Adjusting to the harsh peasant life of the city proves harder than expected after a single slip-up. Jetko
1. Chapter 1

A/N: this story will most likely be Jetko. Warnings for possible violence and sex. I can hardly imagine a story worth reading if it didn't have at least one of those things.

Close Quarters

meaning: Close contact with, especially in a military context - close contact with the enemy.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

An aging man sat quietly in the teashop, sipping dark liquid from his steaming cup. His silver hair was tied into a topknot, a few lazy strands had decided to disobey, stubbornly falling into his face. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, as if he had seen more time than he appreciated. His mannerisms suggested that he hailed from a family of some wealth. From the way delicate way he held his cup to politeness in his voice when addressing strangers, an observant person might be able to tell he was accustomed to money.

But his appearance betrayed him. He could not wash the dirt from his hands or the smell from his clothes that suggested that he had been in a market stall the entire day, selling sardines to the peasantry. Nor could the fact be ignored that he purchased a cup of tea from a third-rate teashop set deep in the lower ring of Ba-sing-se.

He was retired, or at least he should be. Unfortunately the pension from his previous job failed to keep his style of living afloat, so he resorted to making a few copper pieces a day at the market.

He turned his head when several men in uniform entered the teashop. Not the uniforms of the elite Dai-Li or even those of benders. They sported the simple gear of common footsoldiers. Of course, men any higher ranked wouldn't need to dine in the lower ring. The older ones noticed him and gave him a stiff nod in acknowledgment. They younger ones only looked at him with pity.

The teashop, he noticed, was rather slow. Was it always like this? Or was it an unpopular time or day for tea? There was a single server working. He seemed a bit confused and out of place, as if he was still new to the job. He was young, perhaps still in his teens, and would have been quite handsome if not for the ugly scar across the left side of his face.

Early afternoon drifted into late afternoon when a rouge youth suddenly disrupted the teashop's peaceful atmosphere. He barged in arrogantly, in worn clothes with mismatched armor, swords drawn and a stalk of wheat hanging from his lips.

"I'm tired of waiting," he said, seemingly speaking to the teashop as a whole. He pointed one hooked sword at the tea server, who had turned at the other boy's loud entrance. "This man is a fire-bender."

Quite obviously, the newcomer was a refugee, and a newer one at that. The war was not spoken of within the city walls. Half of the people didn't even know what was going on these days. When the boy with the hooked swords did not get the reaction out of his audience that he wanted, he grew angry.

"He's fire-nation! He's one of _them! _I saw his uncle heating his tea."

The tea server remained still but had no reaction on his features. He could have been fire-nation, but most people on the west side of the Earth kingdom had coloring like him as well. It would be impossible to tell by appearance alone.

"Put your swords away boy." The soldiers seated in the corner of the shop had risen to their feet. They did not like where this was going. Not only did they have a duty to hush any talk of the war outside, but they also had a duty to prevent the murder of unarmed, civilian, tea servers by rash boys toting hooked swords.

Or at least he had _thought_ the server unarmed. That is, until he pulled a dagger from his belt.

The old man's eyes went wide.

"You're gonna come at me with _that_?" said the attacker, the piece of grass falling from his mouth, "Why don't you just use your fire-bending, _Li_."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jet. You should leave if you don't want to get hurt." The server, Li, sounded strangely confident, facing dual swords with only a dagger clutched in his hand. He was not cowering like the old man had expected he would.

"What are you playing at? Getting my sympathy and letting me fuck you on the ferry ride over here…did you think I would just let something like this slide?" The other boy, Jet, said loudly. Li snarled after hearing such a (undoubtedly private) thing fly from the lips of his assailant. Jet only continued. "I don't see a fire-bender and let him live, and I certainly don't let him roam free in my city."

Jet launched himself at Li and the two of them went at it for a few moments with the whole tea shop watching. When the soldiers finally got involved, they seemed to have a difficult time breaking the two of them apart. Jet, especially, looked to be fairly skilled with his weapons.

The old man had had enough of watching and speculating. He stomped his foot on the ground and immediately both boys' feet were encased in earth, rendering them immobile. The soldiers looked to the old man, relieved.

"Thanks, Wei," one of them mumbled.

"Fire-nation scum!" Jet shouted hysterically, struggling fiercely in his bonds, "I won't rest until I see you dead or rotting in a prison cell!"

"I'm afraid that's where you're headed, boy," a soldier replied, apprehending Jet and wresting the weapons from his grip.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" yelled Jet, "Doesn't anyone believe me?"

Old man Wei stood up at Jet's words and walked over to the group. After a moment of consideration, he released the rock imprisoning Jets legs, and turned to stare at the boy called Li.

"He's a filthy fire-bender! Him and his uncle!" Jet goaded. Wei looked briefly around the shop.

"You can't prove that!" Li snapped.

"Where is your uncle, young man?" Wei asked quietly…innocently. Li looked at him suspiciously.

"Wei…" began one of the soldiers in a tired voice, "What do you think you are doing? Let us handle this." Wei ignored the man completely, his gaze still focused on Li.

"It's a day of mourning for him," Li answered shortly, "He told me he was going to the outer wall to pay his respects."

"I see…" responded Wei with a thoughtful hum, "And do you know the significance of this day, Li?" Li knew. It was in his eyes. But he remained silent. So Wei continued. "Ten years ago today, the walls of Ba-Sing-Se were breached for the very first time by a foreign army."

"Wei!" barked a soldier in warning. Again he was ignored.

"May I see that dagger of yours, Li?" It was posed as a question, but Wei took what he wanted from Li's hand.

Seeing the superb craftsmanship…the inscription…

_Made in Earth Kingdom…Never give up without a fight…_

"Where did you get this?" Wei breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper, "Did you steal it?"

Li huffed indignantly at the accusation, highly offended. Rage boiled from his next, deadly words.

"How dare you! It was a gift…from my uncle. A lot of men died on a battlefield for that to come into his hands."

Wei closed his eyes. The storm of emotions in his head gave way to gruesome images of mangled bodies, boys crying for their mothers with their dying breaths, air thick with ash and dust from the charred and crumbling stone wall of Ba-Sing-Se. Wei opened his eyes again and stared at Li a great while, shocked, almost disbelieving.

"If what you say is true, young man, then you _must_ be fire-nation. For I gave that very dagger ten years ago when I surrendered…to none other than General Iroh, the fearsome Dragon of the West, the elder brother of FireLord Ozai."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: yeah, it took a long time to post this chapter

Chapter 2

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Zuko knew it was too late to take back anything he had said. His heart pounded in his ears. A cold sweat had broken out over his skin.

He clenched his fists. Who was this man? Who was he to waltz in here and reveal such a deep secret? After all the trouble Zuko and his uncle had gone through to rid themselves of their former lives, was it all about to end here?

The patrons of the tea shop waited with bated breath to see what his next move would be. Some looked shocked, some horrified, but most simply looked confused.

Zuko decided he wasn't about to 'give up without a fight'.

"That's completely ridiculous," Zuko said, and upon realizing that it wasn't said with the conviction needed, he let out a short bark of laughter. "This is ridiculous. Please, old man, I am a humble tea server."

And that seemed to release the tension in the room quite suddenly. It was the only excuse the other men in uniform needed.

"Wei, I think you might have gotten a little too much sun today. The boy is right, this is ridiculous. He is of no higher standing than anyone else in the lower ring," one soldier said. The old man narrowed his eyes and for a moment, it didn't seem like he was going to back down.

"Yes…" began Wei slowly, "Yes, it appears I was mistaken." Grudgingly he handed the small dagger back to Zuko. Their fingers met briefly and Zuko couldn't help but shudder inwardly. Those green eyes bore into him, as if searching for the truth.

"You'll have to forgive a senile old man like me for his folly. Allow me to make it up to you sometime."

"I think you've done enough," Zuko replied, "Kindly leave this shop." The old man smiled. It was a twisted, deceitful smile and it was then that Zuko realized that he still could not move.

All at once, the elderly earth-bender dropped into a stance and performed a series of complex movements. Walls of earth rose up in front of the doors and windows, casting the shop into darkness. People shouted in fright, rising up from their chairs and desperately demanding an explanation. Wei did not give it to them. He bent the fiery coals from underneath the tea pots and brought them to the center of the room. It wasn't long before the wooden floor in front of Zuko caught fire.

"What do you think you are doing, Wei!" a soldier shouted, his voice laced with panic.

"This is complete madness, stand down at once!" another ordered, reaching for his weapon. They surrounded him, but Wei dispatched them easily with a flick of the wrist. He sent them all tumbling to the other end of the room in an unconscious heap.

"Have you lost your mind?" Zuko shouted over the din of a panicking mob, eyeing the spreading blaze with worry.

"Indeed I have!" responded the crazy fool with a short laugh. He released Zuko from the rock imprisoning his legs. "Now, my boy, what will you do? We know your secret. Allow us all to burn alive in this fire and your problem will be solved. Save us, and the Dai Li will be on you faster than a pack of hungry lion-wolves."

Zuko's previous notion of the man being insane changed abruptly. What sort of sick ultimatum was this? He could silence these people by letting them burn to ashes, but what did they really know? Only Jet's accusation and an outlandish tale spun by a crazy old man. Whatever this 'Dai Li' was Zuko had no clue, but he had no intention of sacrificing twenty innocent lives in exchange for remaining anonymous in this hellhole for just a tiny bit longer.

The flames had caught on the walls and tables. Zuko's gaze scanned the room, drifting over the people who pounded desperately at the rock walls barring the exits.

All of the sudden, Jet, who had only been standing there in complete stupor, came to his senses. He must, in this moment, be feeling at least some fear for his own life, but all he did was look at Zuko with hard eyes.

"Show us who you really are, Li," he said darkly.

Black smoke curled about the room. Screaming had reduced to coughing and even Zuko had to admit that he was feeling the heat. Fortunately this had been what he was waiting for. As the hazy air became too thick to breathe or see in, Zuko took a deep breath and fired a strong blast into the eastern wall that had already been severely weakened. This created an opening that the people immediately took advantage of, pouring through the exit and only thinking of escaping this oven.

"Clever, Prince," came the old man's voice. Zuko braced himself, wondering if he had enough skill to take on this earthbending master. He dropped into a stance and listened hard, for he was still blinded by the smoke. Then, quite suddenly, the rock slabs blocking the doors and windows fell away and light poured into the hazy room. "We will meet again, rest assured."

A cloud of dust flew up from the ground, promptly smothering the flames still eating at the building, and Zuko has just enough time to cover his eyes and mouth. After several minutes of nothing, he concluded that the old man had gone and he was now alone.

He was wrong. Hooked swords locked around his throat and a hoarse voice whispered in his ear.

"Prince or peasant, you are fire nation and you are going to die by my blade," Jet said harshly.

"I've done things in my past that I'm not proud of," Zuko responded, mirroring Jet's words on the ferry, "But none of them are to do with you!" He managed to break through the swords and aim a fire blast at Jet, who quickly rolled out of the way.

"Hah!" Jet sneered, "What about our tryst on the ferry?" An image swam before Zuko's eyes of the two of them naked in each other's arms, and he remembered that sweat feeling of gratification. Certainly, he regretted it, but he could not deny how much he'd needed it.

Jet leapt at Zuko again with renewed strength and Zuko took care to dodge his strikes. They were forced apart by a large, charred piece of wood falling from the ceiling. Both of them look up to see that the rafters had been badly damaged, and with the hole in the wall the entire building had become unstable.

"If I don't get a second chance in Ba-sing-se, then neither do you, Jet!" Zuko snarled. He distracted his opponent with a few firebending blasts and then delivered a strong kick to his gut. It sent Jet hurtling backwards into the wall. The jarring impact momentarily disoriented the man and by the time he had gotten over the pain, the wall was already collapsing on top of him. He sent Zuko the nastiest of looks before being buried under the rubble.

With the tea shop now nothing but a pile of burnt wood, a crowd of spectators had gathered to curiously peer at the damage and inquire as to what had happened. It would only be a matter of time before more city guards appeared and Zuko knew he had to disappear.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

He found his uncle under a tree near the outer wall. Iroh was knelt in silent prayer before a make-shift altar. Even from this distance, Zuko could make out the picture of his cousin to whom respects were being paid. He was loath to interrupt his uncle's time of mourning, but this matter was of far greater importance.

"Zuko," Iroh addressed him in an even voice without turning to look at him, "Come pray with me." Zuko let out a sigh and dropped onto his knees next to his uncle.

"We have a problem, Uncle-," Zuko began, but he was shushed immediately. Zuko sat in silence with him for a few minutes, allowing his uncle time to finish.

"It is a lovely day," Iroh said softly. Zuko could see that his eyes were red and puffy. He suddenly felt an overwhelming pity for his uncle. He swallowed thickly.

"Uncle, we've been found out," Zuko said stiffly. The older man turned to him slowly, as if still processing his words.

"By who?" his eyebrows were furrowed with worry now. Zuko threw the dagger into the ground where it embedded itself in the soft earth before Lu Ten's shrine.

"This is what did it," Zuko said. Iroh reached down to pick up the small blade and examine it. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"There is only one man that would recognize this dagger."

"His name was Wei. He said he knew you." Iroh nodded slowly to this.

"General Wei surrendered to me on this very day ten years ago. He gave his dagger to me…and his city. He was…a worthy adversary. An honorable man."

"Well that 'honorable man' just blew our cover and destroyed the tea shop we work at. What are we going to do, Uncle?"

Iroh stood and handed the dagger back to Zuko.

"It seems we cannot ignore our destinies any longer, Zuko. We will go to the White Lotus and do our part to take this world back from the fire nation," Iroh responded as if it were the most natural thing to do. Zuko sucked in a breath.

"_That_ is your plan? No, I refuse. I will not become a traitor, Uncle."

"You already are a traitor, Zuko," his uncle reminded him. His voice was little more than a whisper. "You know this is the right path. I've given you time to come to terms with it and now we must put an end to Ozai's tyranny."

"I won't go against my country…or my father," Zuko replied coldly, "No matter how much they both may hate me, I will not betray them. No. You cannot ask me to take part in this war."

"Zuko," Iroh began in a voice begging Zuko to see reason, "You have a duty-"

"I have _no_ duties," Zuko said with finality. He was no longer crown prince. He had no duty to his country. He was not seeking revenge. He had no duty to someone else. And until he could determine for himself what was right or wrong in this messed up world, he would not take up arms for any country. He had no moral obligations. He had absolutely no reason to fight.

Perhaps his uncle could see all of this going through his mind because he smiled sadly and let out a deep sigh.

"Then, I am afraid we must part ways, Zuko."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed bitterly. There was a lump forming in his throat as he thought of being away from his uncle again…and of the possibility that they might never see each other again.

"Where will you go, nephew?" his uncle inquired.

"Does it matter? Everywhere, I am an outcast," Zuko replied. Iroh stepped forward and embraced his nephew. Zuko hesitantly returned the gesture. When they broke apart, Iroh had placed an old pai sho tile in his palm. Zuko looked down at the white flower painted on the top.

"So you can always find me," Iroh explained. He placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and stared into his golden eyes. "Throughout my life, I've lost so much. My family. My friends. My crown. It is easy to fall to despair, Zuko. Sometimes when I feel that all hope is lost, I must remind myself that there is still one person in this world that I can give my love to, and I hope, that if you are ever in such a dark place, you can feel the same."

"I…" Zuko clutched the tile to his chest. This was good-bye. This was it. There was suddenly so much he wanted to say.

"Let's not tarry here, Zuko. If what you told me is true, we are probably already being hunted down by Ba-sing-se's authorities. We can ill-afford to be seen in broad daylight. This city is against us now."

"Right," Zuko said, his voice tight.

They went their separate paths from that tree, Iroh taking one direction and Zuko taking another. Zuko had hardly gone a few steps when he stopped and noticed that Lu Ten's memorial had been left in place for all to see. He stared back at the picture of his regal cousin.

"You always were good at sharing," Zuko mumbled to the drawing, feeling slightly insane while doing so, "Thanks for lending me him."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Consciousness came and went from Jet a number of times before he finally found the strength to keep his eyes open. The world was dark and he could barely breathe without his body aching all over. It was then that he realized that he was still buried under a building. Shifting wood and stone out of his way he was able to dig his way out of the mess imprisoning him. It took quite a while with the stabbing pain in his chest indicating a few broken ribs.

Once free, he began to search the debris for his swords with only the light of the moon to help him.

"Looking for these?"

Jet looked up to see a man holding his twin swords with a hand that was encased in a rock glove. He was wearing a hat and green robes. Jet narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"You've caused us quite a mess here," Another voice said. Jet whipped around to face a second man in an identical uniform. "We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again." There were four of them now forming a circle around Jet. His eyes darted frantically between them. With such serious injuries and no weapons he couldn't hope to fight. He struggled as they moved in and cuffed his hands behind his back.

"Wait a minute!" Jet shouted, "I haven't done anything!"

"It is forbidden to speak of the war within the city walls. Those who break this law must either be re-educated or eliminated." A hand covered Jet's mouth before he could respond. Something was pulled over his eyes and the world went pitch black once again.

"In this city, silence is a virtue."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


End file.
